Fatherless Christmas
by Proseac
Summary: A fractured arm leads Tony to prevail on Gibbs' hospitality at Christmas. But the boss isn't in a celebratory mood. Will Tony be able to pull him out of his funk on this, the first Christmas since Jackson's passing?


**A/N: Written for Colorguard28 for the 2014 Secret Santa Exchange on NFA Community. I was very intimidated to be writing for someone who's already a published author. Jennie asked for something with a family feel among the team, and this is what I came up with.**

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><p><span><em><strong>Fatherless Christmas<strong>_

Six weeks. How was he ever going to survive?

Who knew a broken arm could cause so much misery? Tony hadn't hesitated for one second when he'd seen the gunman aiming at Tim. He'd darted out from behind the car and barrelled into his partner, knocking him to the ground to avoid the bullet's trajectory. Unfortunately, he'd also ended up colliding with a brick wall in the process, shattering both bones in his right forearm. Two pins, three screws and a plaster cast later, he'd been confronted with the reality that functions as basic as relieving himself and brushing his teeth were going to be significantly more difficult.

He'd insisted he could manage on his own, despite Ducky's warnings to the contrary. After one horrible night of misery - at one point, he'd singlehandedly managed to trip over his own pants, hitting his head on the bedside table - he'd given in and pleaded with Gibbs to take him in. Much to his relief, the boss had come through, setting him up in the spare bedroom.

"It's only for a few days", he'd asserted. "Just until I get used to the cast."

Fourteen days had passed since that bold statement had been uttered. In that time, he'd seen little improvement in his ability to manage the most basic of tasks, and Gibbs was getting increasingly ornery. Christmas Eve had snuck up on them - the first one since Jackson's passing - and still, the boss seemed to have little interest in putting up any decorations. It seemed the less festive his surroundings, the better. Tony, on the other hand, was missing the usual trappings of Christmas. He always had a fully decked-out tree, and a few tasteful decorations. His stocking was always hung from the mantel, and it didn't really matter that he had to fill it himself each year; it was tradition. HIS tradition.

He decided to take the bull by the horns one afternoon when Gibbs was off running errands. Rummaging around in the basement, he'd managed to find a couple of boxes of decorations - some of them clearly handmade by the boss himself. Getting them up the stairs had been a challenge, but he'd managed it by balancing one corner of the box in the crook of his elbow as he took the stairs gingerly one at a time. One thing he hadn't found was a tree. But no matter - there was tinsel, three stockings (thankfully they didn't have names on them), and even a sprig of mistletoe, which he decided to deal with first. The string that had been attached to it had disintegrated, so he had to rummage around in the kitchen to find a ball of fine twine. With his thumb and forefingers separated in the cast, it wasn't an easy task to tie the string, but on the third try he managed it. Locating a step stool in the kitchen, Tony dragged it into the front hallway with his left arm, and climbed up to attach the greenery to the bottom of the light fixture.

Just as he was stepping down to admire his handiwork, Gibbs walked in the front door.

"What the hell, DiNozzo?"

"Oh hey, boss. Better stand aside, or I'll have to kiss you!"

Gibbs scowled. "What is all this?" he asked, glancing around the corner at the mess all over the living room floor.

"It's Christmas, boss. I just thought the place could use a little bit of livening up - you, know give it a festive aura."

"Well, you thought wrong. This stuff's all going to Goodwill. Put it away, Tony."

Gibbs picked up the grocery bags he'd dropped in the doorway, and trudged through the hallway to the kitchen. Tony glanced around the living room, and sighed.

"Aw, come on, boss, where's your holiday spirit? What's your company going to think if you don't put any decorations up?"

"Wasn't planning on having company, DiNozzo."

He hadn't really needed the reminder; he already felt like an interloper. The prospect of spending Christmas with a growly Gibbs was not pleasant, to say the least. There would be no turkey, no trimmings. No apple crumble or jello salad. No tree. No presents. _Bah, Humbug. _

He wasn't quite sure what the problem was. Even though Gibbs wasn't into the festive season the same way he was, the boss had always strung up a few lights, at the very least. Gibbs usually mellowed just a bit at the holidays, and Tony had been pinning his hopes on that, once it had become clear that he'd be stuck here for the duration. The only thing he could think of was that he himself was the cause of Gibb's sour mood; a conclusion that didn't bode well for a happy Christmas.

"You just gonna stand there?"

Gibbs stood in the kitchen doorway with an inscrutable look on his face. Tony's sixth sense told him that if he played this right, Gibbs would back down, and let him finish the decorating.

"You don't really want me to pack it up, do you boss?" He paused, and added more softly, "Don't you think your Dad would want you to carry on with the traditions?"

He thought he caught a flicker of emotion. Just a flicker. Or maybe it was a twitch. A nervous tick.

"Aw, hell, Tony, do what you want." And with that, Gibbs returned to unpacking the groceries.

It wasn't much of a victory - more like detente. But he'd take what he could get. A few minutes later, Gibbs called out from the kitchen, "I'm making coffee."

Oh boy. Tony couldn't really stomach Gibbs' coffee. Then again, he was no fool, and he knew that Gibbs meant it as a peace offering - the sort one didn't dare decline.

"Great, boss. Thanks." He returned to the living room and picked up a piece of tinsel, holding the ends apart and assessing the mantelpiece. It was just long enough to extend across its width, cinched in the middle. He dragged the step stool in from the hallway, climbed up and then reached down for the thumb tacks that were strewn all over the coffee table.

"Here, let me do that. You're gonna break your neck." Gibbs nudged him out of the way and took his place on the step stool. Tony handed him one end of the tinsel and a thumb tack.

"Thanks, boss. This is gonna be great!"

Gibbs sighed. "I suppose next you're gonna want me to bring in the tree."

"The tree, boss?" Gibbs tilted his head in the direction of the car in the driveway. Tony craned his neck to look out the window, and sure enough, there was a beautiful scotch pine, strapped to the roof of Gibbs' Dodge Charger. He smiled broadly.

"Doesn't take that long to buy a few groceries, Tony. Where the hell did you think I was all afternoon?" Catching the delight on Tony's face, he quickly added, "Don't get all excited. It's for Leyla and Amira."

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><p>Two hours and a pot of coffee later, Leyla &amp; Amira's tree had taken pride of place in the living room window. Gibbs would not have made such concessions for anyone else, but his Senior Field Agent had seemed especially low for the past several days, and since Tony had dragged everything out of the basement anyway… He placed a call to 'the girls', who happily accepted his invitation to come and spend Christmas Day with him instead. Tony had to admit the coloured lights on the tree were rather pretty, even if he did prefer the clean aesthetic of a monochromatic colour scheme at his apartment. A crocheted tree skirt, which had been lovingly hand-crafted by Shannon, hid the stand at the base. Two stockings hung on the mantel, one on either side of the fireplace. Gibbs had thrown some logs on, and the room was looking decidedly warm and cheery; no mean feat, considering how sparsely furnished it was.<p>

As darkness fell, they ordered Chinese take-out (another of DiNozzo's traditions, in a nod to Jean Shepherd's holiday classic, _A Christmas Story_), and sat back to admire their handiwork. But as the food settled in their stomachs and the mellow buzz from beer number three settled in their heads, a dull melancholy settled in their souls, despite their festive surroundings. They sat in sullen silence for quite awhile, staring at the hypnotic flames.

"This isn't exactly how I pictured spending Christmas Eve," Tony ventured at last.

"Well, nobody's forcing you to stay, Tony."

Tony back-pedaled. "Oh. I didn't mean that the way it sounded, boss. I appreciate you having me here. It's just…I was supposed to be home in Long Island this Christmas with Dad & Linda."

"Why aren't you? Broken arm's no reason not to travel."

Tony sighed. "Dad changed the plan at the last minute. He whisked Linda away to Italy. Nonna wanted to meet this new wife of his - so far, none of them have passed muster since Mom. Nonna's 92. Can't travel, but still sharp as a tack. Wish I could be there to witness the interrogation." He took another pull on his beer. "No idea how he's paying for the trip."

"Not your problem, Tony."

"No."

There was another long silence. Gibbs glanced around the room. Everything reminded him of last Christmas…the last one he'd spend with Jackson. He hadn't wanted the decorations to come out then either (too many memories of Shannon and Kelly), but his father had insisted. And the dreaded sadness over the absence of his wife and daughter had not overcome him, as he'd feared it might. He and his father had shared fond memories and a few good laughs. They were moments to treasure.

Tony had come across the 'First Christmas Together' and 'Baby's First Christmas' ornaments as they'd been decorating, and Gibbs, spying them in his hand, had reached over and grabbed them, adding them to the tree in a place of prominence. Noting DiNozzo's mild surprise, Gibbs had admitted that he'd spent too many years trying to live his life without acknowledging a giant piece of it that was missing. With Jackson gone, he was finally ready to admit that it was probably not good to suppress those memories.

"This is kind of nice," Gibbs conceded. He gave Tony a sidelong glance, and wondered how many memories of his own the younger man was suppressing. They were alike in many ways, he realized. Tony would do well to get things off his chest. But it would take a bit of prompting.

"I remember making that ornament," he began, pointing to the large wooden ball with "First Christmas Together" carefully engraved on the side. It wasn't Gibbs' style to share details about his personal life; it didn't come naturally to him. But he understood his agent well enough to know that if he opened up a bit, Tony would do the same. And sure enough, he did.

DiNozzo didn't have many happy memories of this time of year, but the last family Christmas before his mother died was a treasured one; all the more so because his father had actually spent it with them, instead of half-way around the world closing some business deal or other.

They'd gone to the Hamptons for that year. The scene had been picture perfect, like the front of a Hallmark Christmas card. A blanket of snow snuggled the ground, and lacy white sleeves graced the branches of the deciduous trees that lined the promenade leading up to the house. Tony and his father had made a snowman on the front lawn, after lunch on Christmas Eve. Senior had even offered up an older coat and one of his fedoras, to give him a dapper look. He'd hoisted Tony up on his shoulders to position the hat on top of the snowman. Tony remembered feeling like he was on top of the world; from this vantage point, he could survey the estate and see through the trees to the neighbours' properties on either side as well. His father smelled of expensive after-shave and smoke, from the roaring fire in the great room, where they'd been roasting chestnuts earlier in the day. Tony could still recall his mother's infectious laugh as she watched them put the finishing touches on Frosty DiNozzo.

That day had been a rare moment of togetherness for his family… subsequent Christmases had been mostly a matter of staying out of the way while Senior cavorted with whatever lady friend happened to be in his life at the time. The magic had died along with his mother, and once he'd been packed off to boarding school, he'd found himself dreading the Christmas break each year, when he'd have to go home and feel like the nuisance child.

Gibbs could tell it wasn't easy for Tony to relive these memories. Only once before had the younger man opened up like this… the day he'd shown up at Gibbs' house in a disheveled tuxedo, with more than a little alcohol in his system, and announced that he'd been left at the altar.

Gibbs listened carefully to what was NOT being said. Eventually, Tony just stopped talking, and stared at the fire contemplatively.

"You think your Dad's gonna stay married this time?"

Tony brightened a bit. "You know, I think he just might. Linda knows how to handle him… kinda like Mom did. He needs boundaries. A firm hand. She's not afraid to tell him when he's gone over the line."

Gibbs chuckled. "Sounds like you're talking about a child."

"I am," Tony replied, without even breaking a smile. "Dad never really grew up. That's his problem. That's why he couldn't parent. He was still a kid himself." There was a long pause. "I miss him. Not like you miss your Dad, but… yeah. No idea why. He's always overstepping other people's boundaries, and sometimes it seems like he does things deliberately just to piss me off." Tony looked up at Gibbs. "So why does it still bother me that he's not here?"

"He's your Dad, Tony. Everyone wants to be with family at Christmas. That's what it's all about."

"Yeah. Everybody's got that, except you and me, Gibbs."

Gibbs smiled and shook his head. "You're family, Tony. I don't let just anyone stay in my house."

They clinked their beers in a toast.

"Merry Christmas, boss."

**THE END  
>Merry Christmas, Jennie!<strong>


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